


Enemies With Benefits

by Highlander_II



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, BtVS Secret Santa fic, Choose Your Own Adventure, First Time, Flashbacks, M/M, Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-18
Updated: 2007-01-18
Packaged: 2017-10-02 06:09:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Highlander_II/pseuds/Highlander_II
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>- A Choose Your Own Adventure smut-fic -</p><p>What this means is - don't read all the chapters in order.  The story won't make a lot of sense that way.  At the end of each chapter are links - either 2 options to choose from or a link to the next part, whatever it may be.  However, feel free to read the story in as many permutations as you'd like!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a gift for **[](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=blue_icy_rose)[blue_icy_rose](http://www.livejournal.com/users/blue_icy_rose/)** for the ****[](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=btvs_santa)[btvs_santa](http://www.livejournal.com/users/btvs_santa/) community.

"How do you think she found out?"

I look up at my coffee drinking companion with an arched eyebrow. "What are you on about, Harris?"

He grunts and grumbles and sighs. "Nancy. How do you think she found out?"

"About what?" And who the bleeding hell is Nancy?

Harris rolls his eyes and blows out a huff of breath across the table. "About us," he whispers through his teeth. What? Like anyone around here's even listening.

My brow furrows. "What about us?" That he's a big nancy-boy and I'm an insane vampire?

He's gawking at me like I've grown a second head. Too bad I haven't, might help. "You know." Then there's a series of facial ticks, obviously some secret code I'm supposed to understand.

"Would you spit it out, Harris? People are starting to give you weird looks." I snort. "Weirder looks."

"Funny, soul-boy." Has he snapped out of the stupid finally? "But seriously, Spike, how do you think Nancy found out that you and I... you know..." there's more facial twitching, so that's a 'no'.

Think I know what he's on about now though. "Bollocks, Harris. It was a shag. And it wasn't even that good."

While I'm waiting for him to choke on his cappuccino, let me say that he wasn't as bad as I made it sound. He's actually rather good. Better than Anya - which is saying something given her years of experience. Now, while he didn't exactly suggest the activity itself, he made a number of obvious hints. And he wasn't even drunk.

"Spike," he growls at me. "Shhhh."

I roll my eyes. "Harris, no one here cares. Really. They all have their own problems."

"Yes, but I don't want them to know my problems too."

I sigh. Then I blink and shake my head, trying to get the image of Buffy standing next to him to go away. What's she doing here? Thought she was patrolling or whittling stakes or something.

"Spike, are you all right?"

"Not here. No, you're not here. Just go. Go. Not here now."

"Okay, I think it's time to herd you back home, vampire guy." Harris bodily lifts me from the chair and tosses money on the table for the drinks.

It doesn't do any good. She's following us. Is she gonna watch? Or is she gonna join in or just babble in m'head until I scream? "Not here. If we're quiet it won't know where we are."

"Spike, you're going to make me crazy. Just come on."

******

The next thing I know, we're back in his apartment and he's trying to shove me into the closet. So what if it's now my room, it's still a closet. I push against the doorframe and I'm a lot stronger than he is.

"Get. In. Your. Room."

"No!" I push hard once and get free of his feeble grip. "I'm not tired."

Xander picks himself up from the floor and brushes himself off. "Too bad. Go."

I sigh tiredly. "Just wanna watch the telly for a bit. Got a problem with that?"

His attempt to hide the growl when he answers is less than stellar. "Fine. Whatever. But don't leave the apartment."

I snap a salute at him. "Sir, yes, sir." What a wanker. I just want to watch the telly and pretend I don't have voices talkin' to me and hallucinations lookin' like Buffy. It's harder to do locked in that tiny closet by myself.

"Shut up, Spike."

******

There's this annoying shaking going on and if it doesn't stop I'm gonna be putting a hurt on someone.

"Spike, you dumbass, wake up before you end up a crispy critter." A brief pause. "And why do I care again?"

"'Cause Slayer'd have your head you let me burn," I moan and roll myself off the couch and to my feet.

He sighs. "Yeah, you have a point, but get up and move somewhere shadow-y or I'll tell her you killed yourself."

I snort. "She wouldn't believe you."

He rolls his eyes and goes to his room. Oh, he looks less like a petulant child than that sounds. It's actually a nice view. Speaking of the view, I think I know what he was on about before.

"Harris, that thing earlier…" I start.

He gives me a look over his shoulder. "What thing?"

"With that bird, Nancy."

I watch as his face turns bright red. "What about it?"

"Did you mean that time you went walk-about after your not-wedding?" I ask, with a wicked grin – beneath the surface of course.

"Shut up."

"You mean that time you asked me to let you stay in m'crypt and said ya'd pay me not to tell your mates where you were?"

"Shut up, Spike."

"You mean that time you asked me to teach you what it's like…?"

"Shut. Up."

"You mean that time you begged me to take you from behind?"

"SHUT UP... or I'll shut you up!"

"Yeah? How?"

  


* * *

  


**If Xander hits Spike… [click here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3375/chapters/4237)**

**If Xander kisses Spike… [click here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3375/chapters/4238)**


	2. choice 1.1

The little wanker actually pulls his fist back and clocks me across the jaw. Little shit. Hell, it hurts – not as bad as the Slayer, but it hurts. I'll have a mark.

"Shit, Harris."

"I told you to shut up."

"So you did. Never figured you'd actually hit me though." I touch my jaw – it's tender.

He pulls a face and flexes his hand. "If I'd known it would break my hand, I wouldn't have." He pauses for a breath. "Or, I mean, you pissed me off."

I arch an eyebrow. _Really? Never would've guessed._ Good to know the kid can do it when he has to though. It's a good skill.

He takes a moment, then asks, "You're not pissed about it?"

"Hell, Harris, I got pissed every time someone hit me…"

He waves a hand. "Yeah. Whatever. But why aren't you angry at me?"

I shrug. "Now I know you can handle yourself."

"You didn't before?"

"Let's say I had my doubts."

"But you don't now?"

"You goin' somewhere with this or you just playin' twenty questions?" Which is a horrible game to play with Harmony. Only stupid bint I know who would actually choose 'bread box' as her item.

"Maybe I'm just wondering if you think I'm worth another round."

Now he's got me confused. "Round of what?"

He turns away and heads for the bathroom with a wave of his hand and a muttered, "Nevermind."

"Hold up." Two steps and I've caught him. "You sayin' you want to do it again? Play house?"

He sneers at me, but it fades fast. "Not exactly 'play house', but… you know… yeah."

I shrug. "Sure." Hey, it's been a while and Buffy's not givin' it up to me anymore. Though, not sure I want that with her right yet anyway.

His eyes blink and he fishmouths a moment. "B-but what about Buffy?"

"You think she's up for a party, bring her along. I'll wait."

"Spike!" He slaps my arm, then grabs my head and kisses me.

Well damn.

Is he worth another go? Hell yeah – but don't tell him I said that, he'll get all cocky on me and one arrogant over-bearing bastard in my life is enough.

  


* * *

** [click here to continue the story](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3375/chapters/4240) **


	3. choice 1.2

Gotta say, this is one of the more pleasurable ways of shuttin' me up. S'not just the kiss, you should see where his hand's wandered off to. "Mmm, Harris. This mean you're not mad at me anymore?"

"No." He kisses me again, rough, hot, hard. I love it. "On your knees," he growls.

"What?" I find myself blinking at him in shock.

He pushes on my shoulders. "On your knees, vampire," he hisses.

Ballsy bastard. I'm on my knees though, looking up at him. I did take a quick peek to make sure I'm out of sunlight range.

Now, I might mention it's been nearly a year since our little encounter and this isn't something I ever expected Harris to do, but I'm not complaining. Actually, it's turnin' me on.

Fingers in my hair, he tips my head back. "Get it out. Suck me off."

He's gotten bold. I like it.

"Now!" he snaps.

How could I say no to that? My hands reach up, almost on their own, and unfasten his jeans. It only takes a minute to get them open and out of the way. He's rock hard in there. And since I'm a hungry little vampire, I draw him out of his pants and wrap my talented mouth around him before he can open his to tell me to speed it along. Instead, I get an earful of Harris-moaning. _That_ I much prefer.

I know he's ready when his fingers tighten in my hair. He's movin' like he doesn't want me to swallow, but I hold onto his hips and don't let him move. He may have been able to give me orders to get me down here, but now I'm in charge.

The sound he makes when he comes is a long, low groaning moan. It's great. I love having control over him like this. The power is intoxicating.

He slumps to the ground and growls in my face, "I hate you."

  


* * *

  


** [click here to continue the story](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3375/chapters/4240) **


	4. the middle

He's curled up against my side and if I didn't know better, I'd think he was fragile, breakable. He's not. He's stronger than he looks. Stronger than most people think.

Don't tell anyone I said that.

Just because I have a soul, doesn't mean I'm suddenly a pansy-ass. I'm still the Big Bad. I just happen to be snuggling with a carpenter.

Don't mention that to anyone either.

He groans in his sleep and rolls over, layin' on m'chest. He's curled around me now. He'll wake up in a minute and ask to play again. That's the part I'm waiting for. The sex part is the good part.

And I'm not exactly getting any anywhere else. Neither is he. Hey, I don't consider it settling if the lover is as good as this one is.

I need to stop touting his sexual prowess and get to tasting it.

He's awake. I can tell by all the licking of my chest and scratching at my side. It's a lot like that first time…

******

**Sunnydale – 2002**

"You want something, Harris?" What else should I ask of the man currently darkening my door.

He skids a shoe over the concrete step, stares at the ground. "Need a place to stay for a while."

"Well you're not staying here." Is he insane?

He nods. "Figured you'd say that." He turns and starts to leave.

Hell. I'm gonna regret this. "Harris," I call to him.

He turns back, eyes still cast down.

"Get the hell in here."

It takes him a while to get inside, but he makes it; he even pushes the door closed. He walks to the center of the room and leans against a column. "Spike, I'm not gonna ask you for anything else, but could you please not tell anyone I'm here?"

That gives me pause. "And why should I do that?"

"I'll pay you. I'l get you warm blood, whatever. I just need to be invisible for a while."

I need to think this over for a minute. I don't usually have houseguests and surely not the extended-stay kind. "How long we talkin'? Couple days? Week?"

He shrugs. "About that. Maybe longer. Just – a while."

"And I'm supposed to do this out of the evilness of my heart?"

He sighs tiredly and rolls his eyes. "I already told you I'd pay you, but if that's not good enough, I'll go find somewhere else." And he actually does that walk toward the door thing. I wasn't sure people actually did that.

Before he gets all the way there: "With what?"

"Huh?" he asks over his shoulder, his face screwed up in confusion.

"With what will you pay me, dear Harris?"

He gives a half-hearted shrug. "I'll come up with something. Money, blood, a new lamp…" Then, suddenly, he's just sittin' there on the steps, head in his hands. And he completely missed the double entendre.

"Hell, if it keeps you from mopin' around, I'll let ya pay me to stay here at Hotel Spike. But I'll warn you, there's only one room, one bed, no dining services and the rates are steep." I light up another cigarette. "Oh and the proprietor's a vampire."

"Yeah, figured all tha-… wait," he lifts his head, "So where am I gonna sleep?"

I shrug and blow smoke into the air. "Extra blankets make the floor comfy."

He gets to his feet, deep frown on his face. "Hey now, I'm the guest here, shouldn't I get the bed?"

I snort. "Did you miss the part where the proprietor's a _vampire_?" I put a little more emphasis on that last word.

"Right." He shakes his head and sits on the steps again.

This's really got him down. "Harris, if this's got you so depressed, why'd you do it?"

He doesn't even look up at me. "Because it was the right thing to do."

"Mind fillin' me in on what exactly it is you did?"

This time he does lift his head, in shock. "You haven't gotten the latest scoop?"

"I don't follow 'Days of Our Buffy' _that_ closely, Harris."

"Left the wedding a little early," he mutters.

My turn to blink. "How early?"

"Before it started."

My brow creases. "Where was I?"

"I don't know, but I had thoughts and doubts and I couldn't do it. But, seriously, Spike, I'm beat. You got someplace I can curl up and die?"

Now I actually feel bad for the guy. "Yeah. C'mon. You can sleep on the bed. Just don't do anything weird in it."

He frowns up at me, then shakes his head as he gets up and crosses to the hole in the floor. "Much too tired to do anything."

******

I put him to bed, then a couple nights later – after he stopped snarling at me every time he saw me, he asked me something that I didn't figure _I_ would ever hear from him…

******

**Sunnydale – 2002**

"Spike, I want you to show me something."

"Maybe. What is it?"

He stares at his feet for the duration of the conversation. "Something to do with sex."

"Haven't you and demon-girl explored all those avenues?"

"Probably most of them, but there are a couple she's ill-equipped to attempt."

Is he sayin' what I think he's sayin'? "Are you askin' me to pop your cherry, Harris?"

A few startled blinks and he glares at me. "Already had that taken care of by Faith, thanks."

"Wrong cherry, genius."

"Oh." He gulps and folds his arms around himself. "Well, yeah, I guess that's it then."

"Why you so nervous 'bout askin' me?"

He gives me a look like I'm quite daft. "Pick an option – evil, vampire, hate me… the list goes on."

"Given that list, why're you askin' me at all?"

He shrugs. "You can't hurt me and you won't squeal on me." He gives me a pointed look with that last bit.

I sneer back at him. "Right, like I'd tell anyone I was ever with you sexually." Forget the fact that he's buffed up a bit since I first saw him and that Anya's always on about his sexual prowess.

"Great, so, you gonna do it?"

I shrug and put out my cigarette. "Sure. Nothing else to do."

*****

"Open your eyes, Harris, I'm not gonna hurt you."

He cracks his eyes open and holds his breath for a moment. "Sorry," he says softly, "but your fingers are someplace that… uh…"

I smirk. "Yeah, but if I don't put 'em there, it will hurt. Quit yer bitchin'. When we get to the good part, you won't notice the pain."

His fingers clamp down hard on my shoulders and he clenches his eyes closed again.

"Look, Harris," I snap with a frown, "I know I'm not hurtin' you, so what's with the face?"

I watch him almost visibly relax. "Sorry. Maybe it's anticipation of the hurt?" he says as uncertain as ever.

I sigh and shake my head. "No pain, Harris. None. If I can help it, there won't be any at all. I promise." And I have my reasons for promising.

After that, his face changes and he does relax. His fingers loosen on my shoulders and he nods at me. It's more helpful than he thinks – all that tension was counter productive to all my prep-work.

"Good," I whisper – hey, I'm not all evil, as much as I say I am. Well, that and the boy needs some reassurance.

I withdraw my fingers and clean them off on a towel. I lean over him and whisper, "If ya want me to wear a condom, I will, but it's not necessary."

He swallows hard, like he hadn't even thought of that and shakes his head. "Don't have to."

"'Kay." I grab the lube and put it to use again, then, with a hand resting on either hip, his legs over my shoulders, I press forward, slowly, barely penetrating. "Eyes here, Harris." I direct him to look at me. "And breathe. Won't hurt you."

As soon as his eyes are focused on mine, I press in a little more and watch his face shift from mild anxiety to downright pleasure. Perfect. Now his hands clench at my arms, but it has nothing to do with fear. This is much better.

"Spike," he hisses through his teeth.

"You want me to stop?"

He shakes his head, erratic and quick. "No, please don't."

That's a good sign. I start moving slowly, drawing out and pushing back in – and holy shit, he's tight and warm and it feels so damned good. And I'm so caught up in it all that I forget about everything else – because I have no idea what's going on until I feel myself come and watch him arch in ecstasy as he spills himself over his own chest.

"Oh God," he pants as his body goes limp like a wet noodle. "I think that was the best sex I've ever had."

I grin, letting that feed my ego, even though I figure it's just endorphins and adrenaline talking. I give another rock of my hips just to hear him make that little whimper noise I thought I'd heard earlier.

He whimpers and moans, "Spike, stop."

I lean down and lick his neck. "You really want me to stop?"

"Yes," he whines. "Makin' me crazy!"

Another grin. This is too much fun. "Any chance you'll want to do this," I punctuate 'this' with another rock of my hips, "again?"

He whimpers again and responds with something in the affirmative before he all but passes out from exhaustion. At least he's smilin'.

I pull out and shift over to lay beside him, smoke a cigarette – it really was pretty incredible sex – and maybe, take a little nap.

I wake up to the feel of these little wet marks being made on my chest. Instead of waking up and snarling at him, I let him continue and pretend I'm asleep. That part's harder to do when he's tuggin' on m'nipples with his teeth. He probably realizes that when I moan.

He doesn't look up, doesn't stop, doesn't even say 'good morning' to me, he jus' keeps tuggin' on my nipples and tastin' my chest. And is that his hand on my cock? Why, Xander Harris, have I turned you to the dark side so easily? Point for me.

******

**Sunnydale - Present Day**

"Play now," he growls at me, scratching over my nipples and rubbing his cock against my hip.

I put on my best Igor voice and respond, "Yes, Master. Would you like to suck my dick, Master?"

Harris props himself up on an elbow and gives me the weirdest look. "That is something I _never_ wanted to hear Igor say."

He has a point. No, seriously – it was bad. "Guess that means we're not watching _Frankenstein_ tonight."

"Really not."

"So, now what?" I ask, arms folded behind my head.

* * *

  


**If Xander sucks Spike's cock… [click here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3375/chapters/4241)**

**If Xander decides to fuck Spike… [click here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3375/chapters/4242)**


	5. choice 2.1

"Taking one of your suggestions, despite the fact that it ruined my fun horror movie night," he replies and licks his way down my chest.

"There are plenty of other bad horror flicks you can watch, Harris." I try to think of a few, but as m'brain's just leaked out m'ears with sudden mouth contact to my dick, I really don't care anymore.

I don't know where he learned this, but he's doin' fine – really fine. Tongue swirlin' 'round the head an' fingers curled 'round the base and my brain's gonna shut down on me. But then he does _that_ \- oh bollocks – and I hear something' squeak from my mouth that vaguely sounds like his name, but I'm not sure and I don't care as I empty m'self into his mouth. And somewhere in m'head I'm thinking he's rather experienced for a novice, but my dick is happy with the results, so I wall off the thinkin' part of my brain and collapse into the mattress.

Somewhere between long slow licks to my cock and Xander's head restin' on my chest, my brain gets the idea to take a trip back in time and ask, "Where'd you learn t'do that?"

He shrugs. "All the time Anya did it for me, I s'pose."

I arch an eyebrow and ask. "Huh?"

"I paid attention," he says, drawing patterns on my chest with his fingers, "when Anya was doing it. The stuff that I really liked, but never thought of myself, I tried to remember those things."

"Do unto others?"

"Something like that."

"Good call." Hey, it was bloody good. Might as well boost his ego a bit. 'Sides, good way to make sure he'll do it again.

* * *

  


[click here to continue the story](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3375/chapters/4243)


	6. choice 2.2

Warm hands smooth down my hips and over my legs and I'm watching him. He's got lube and… ooh, nice, very subtle, Harris. It takes me a moment to realize I didn't say that out loud. What he actually heard was a long, drawn-out moan when he slipped two fingers inside me. Shit. He pushed me into incoherent sounds already. Damn.

He's smilin' at me like he's got an idea. Hell, plans or no, as long as it culminates in me getting laid, I don't care.

The boy musta been takin' notes, 'cause he's doin' everything right. Just enough lube, just enough prep, just enough suckin' me off to get me hard, then he's pushing in, slow and steady and moanin' against my neck. He draws out and pushes back in and my eyes roll back in m'head.

"Shit, Harris," I groan and clench my hands on his arms.

He doesn't say anything back to me, he just keeps fucking me. Which, if I'm honest, I really don't mind at all. It's damned good and makin' it hard for me t'think straight.

  


When m'brain comes back on-line, he's passed out – almost – layin' beside me on his stomach. There's an arm draped over m'chest and his leg's flung over mine. If he hadn't just fucked me t'oblivion, I'd be makin' him move his sorry ass.

* * *

  


[click here to continue the story](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3375/chapters/4243)


	7. the end

We're layin' on the bed after a rousing round of activities that make you come, when Harris asks me, his voice still breathy, "How'd we get here?"

I arch an eyebrow that he probably can't see and answer, "You live here and I rode with you." Snarky, me? Never.

He shakes his head. "Not what I meant."

I know that, I just couldn't answer straight up, now could I? "I don't know, Harris. You and demon girl had a fallin' out. I'm just the rebound guy."

Harris shakes his head again, then shrugs. "Well, maybe you were – sort of – but not now. Now's different."

"Oh?" I arch the other eyebrow – now I have a matched set. I'd light a cigarette, but m'afraid I'll set us on fire, he keeps shockin' the hell out of me like that.

Another shrug. He's gonna get a cramp. "Yeah. I mean, I'm not looking for a solid relationship, but I'm not doing you as a rebound thing."

"Interesting choice of phrase."

He snorts. "That one I chose on purpose."

"So, what is this? Since you're so interested to know."

Harris rolls over and drops his head on my chest. "Bitter enemies with benefits?"

I laugh. "Sounds s'good as anything else."

"You think we should head back over to Buffy's before she sends out the search party?"

I shrug. "Probably, but not until after I do one last thing…"

**End**


End file.
